


Sleep

by rockinthebeastmode



Category: My Mad Fat Diary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 02:00:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16924422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rockinthebeastmode/pseuds/rockinthebeastmode
Summary: His dreams won’t let him forget. Inspired by Sleep by My Chemical Romance.





	1. Part I

His dreams always started the same.

They’re all together at home, smiling and laughing—a happy little family. His dad is making tea while he and his mum dance around the kitchen to the radio. All is well and good.

Then the flames appear.

They curl up around the curtains first, spreading across the fabric rapidly. They make their way to the counters and cabinets, quickly building up and out of control.

His parents don’t move. His dad spoons sugar into cups filled to the brim and doesn’t notice when the flame wraps around his shirt sleeves. He tries to go to him and pull him to safety but his mum keeps a tight grip on his hands. She’s still twirling around, her dress flying up, eyes sparkling in the orange glow.

He tries to yell at her to let go, but no sound comes out. He frantically tries to escape her grip and she finally releases him, dropping to a chair at the table. She grins at him, a wall of fire behind her.

The radio still plays but the words become garbled and staticky. He’s rooted to his spot on the tile, watching helplessly as his father goes up in smoke. His mum winks and gestures to the radio.

“Oasis ain’t half bad. Make me a tape of it, yeah?”

The fire reaches the table a moment later. Her expression has changed, becoming steely and menacing. The crackling burn of the wood drowns out her next words but he knows them well.

“I told you not to play with fire, Finn.”

***

“So. How are we today?”

Finn shrugged, keeping his eyes low. When the silence continued, he glanced up to see him raising his brows, expecting an actual response. He huffed a sigh, crossing his arms.

“Fine, I s’pose.”

Silence fell again and he tried a different approach.

“Y’know, these sessions are meant to help you, guide you towards rebuilding your life. Now, you can sulk and pout and give me one word answers all you want, but know this—you’re stuck here until we work through all of this mess.”

Finn nodded with a frown and his eyes fell to his converse, the laces jumping as his leg shook restlessly.

“Just because these are court-mandated doesn’t mean we can’t make the best of it, right?”

Finn hesitated before nodding again, sitting up straighter in his seat. If he was forced into it, he might as well give it his best shot—especially if it got him out of this mental prison sooner.

“We’ll start small. Proper introductions and all.” He held out a hand to Finn, smiling earnestly.

“I’m Dr. Gill, but you can call me Kester.”

***

Finn Nelson was normal by traditional standards. He grew up with both parents. He had decent grades. He had good mates. He loved music and playing football. There was just one problem.

Finn loved fire.

He loved the look of it: the bright colors, the flickering movement in the air, the crackling of the flames. Ever since he was a boy, he’d been fascinated with it. But not now. Not after his mum…

He shook his head, tuning back into the noises of the cafeteria. He moved the food on his plate around, curiously looking around the room between forced bites.

He hadn’t been here long, only about a week. He hadn’t really talked to anyone in that time, preferring to be the quiet observer. Today was probably the first time he’d talked to someone other than a police officer or nurse since he’d been admitted.

His thoughts were interrupted by loud laughter from down the table and he glanced over at the two girls sitting down with trays. The two couldn’t be more opposite–one was incredibly small, with short brown hair and sunken eyes, and her clothes practically hanging off of her. The other was tall and a bit bigger, but curvaceous. Her long black hair swung with her movements as she talked, and Finn’s eyes stuck on her chest, taking in her Stone Roses t-shirt. He’d never met a girl into music like that. She looked over at him like she’d felt his stare and he looked down at his food hastily, his ears burning. When he glanced up through his fringe, she was smiling curiously at him before returning to her conversation.

“Ya haven’t touched your food at all. You know what Dr. Nick said,” she scolded. The tiny girl shook her head.

“I’m not hungry,” she replied, the other girl narrowing her eyes at her.

“Tixie…”

“I’m not, Rae!” she insisted, smiling shakily, “I’ll eat at dinner, promise.”

‘Rae’ tilted her head but backed off, shimmying in her seat.

“Did you see the cover of the NME my mum dropped off? Damon Albarn’s somehow gotten fitter since the last time I’ve seen him.”

“He is quite attractive,” ‘Tixie’ agreed, Rae’s eyes widening comically.

“ _Quite attractive_? He’s so sexy, he’d make a priest kick a hole in a stained-glass window,” she retorted with a large smile, the smaller girl breaking into giggles and smacking at Rae’s arm. Finn couldn’t resist a snort and she looked at him again, still grinning.

“Alright?” she asked, raising her brows at him. He only nodded, his ears burning anew. At his continued silence, she waved him over, “Wanna sit with us? We don’t bite–well, I don’t. I can’t speak for Tix here.” Her friend smacked at her arm again but laughed, smiling at him encouragingly.

Finn hesitated before nodding and he stood, sliding his tray over to their side. He had no idea how long he’d be here but it wouldn’t hurt to make friends.

***

The nights here were the hardest. He never realized how comfortable his bed was until he’d spent a week in this cot. But the bed wasn’t the only reason he couldn’t sleep.

In the darkness and silence of the room, there was no buffer for his thoughts. His mind raced, images of flames and police lights appearing every time he closed his eyes. If he did manage to doze off, he was plagued with grueling dreams and woke up exhausted.

He wished he could be a kid again and his nan would tuck him in and sing him to sleep. She’d kiss his forehead as soon as his lids dropped and he’d fall into peaceful slumber. He didn’t know the exact reason why she’d stopped all those years ago. Maybe he’d outgrown it. Maybe she was too sick to continue. Maybe his mum ended it.

***

_“Goodnight, love. Sweet dreams,” Margaret Nelson whispered to Finn as his eyes drifted closed, his breathing starting to deepen. She kissed his forehead and stood, turning to the door. Her hand went to her chest when she saw his mum standing in his doorway._

_“Jennifer! You gave me a fright,” she said, chuckling lightly. Jennifer only narrowed her eyes._

_“He’s getting too old for nursery rhymes, Peggy. You coddle the boy far too much,” she hissed, Finn’s nan rolling her eyes as she walked out the door past her._

_“He’s five, Jenny,” she scoffed, shaking her head. Jenny followed, laughing sardonically._

_“He’ll grow up to be a bloody fairy if you keep pandering to him like this.”_

_“Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped. Jenny grasped her arm, making her turn to face her._

_“Finn is_ my _son. I want it to stop. Immediately.”_

_Peggy opened her mouth to argue but stopped when Jenny’s grip tightened. She nodded and Jenny released her, a sickeningly sweet smile appearing on her face._

_“Good,” she chirped, rubbing Peggy’s arm where she’d held it, “G’night, Mum!”_

_Jenny walked past her to the stairs and she bit her lip as she glanced back into Finn’s room._

***

“Finn? Your dad’s here to see you.”

He nodded, a frown coming over his face. He rubbed his eyes, glancing at the clock. He’d slept a total of three hours the entire night. He’d tossed and turned for most of it, in between dreams, each one more harrowing than the last.

He followed the nurse to the common room, where he saw his father standing uneasily by the door. They hugged, barely touching, and sat on a couch, facing each other.

“You alright? D’ya need anything?” his dad, Gary, asked, clasping his hands together. Finn shook his head.

“I’m fine,” he said. His dad nodded briskly.

“Well, I’m off to a conference in London tomorrow. I’ll be gone for the next week so if you need anything, just call the number I gave them.”

Finn nodded and the two fell silent, Gary glancing around the room. Finn went to stand.

“We don’t have to do this,” he commented, his shoulders lifting. His dad’s face twisted.

“What’re you on about?”

“You said what you needed to say and you obviously don’t wanna be here, so just go.”

Gary’s brow furrowed and he shook his head and stood. He went to hug Finn but he had already turned away, waving over his shoulder.

***

“I heard you haven’t been sleeping well.”

Finn nodded through a yawn, too tired to wonder how he knew. Kester crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

“Have you had trouble with sleeping before?”

“Not really,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. Kester nodded, pursing his lips.

“When did this insomnia start?”

“Probably when I got here,” Finn replied and slouched in his chair.

“Most people have trouble sleeping in new places. Being away from home can be difficult.” Finn shrugged and Kester raised a brow, “You’re not homesick?”

“Not really,” he reiterated, glancing to the side.

“What do you think is causing it?” he asked, Finn meeting his eyes for a moment before looking down and twisting his mouth.

He didn’t know if he should mention his dreams…he wasn’t a nutter, despite what the doctors and police may have thought. But he knew he should be honest, given his situation. It might get him out of here faster.

“I, uh…I have these dreams…well, more like night terrors,” he said, Kester leaning forward.

“Can you remember anything about these terrors?” Finn bit his lip and nodded.

“Most of the time it’s the same one…but others feel like someone is gripping my throat, squeezing…”

“You could be experiencing sleep paralysis–some cases reference a force holding them down, an inability to breathe clearly,” Kester started, Finn’s brow furrowing, “What happens in your other dream?”

He hesitated but looked at his shoes, willing himself to explain.

“Sometimes I see flames…sometimes I see people that I love dying but always…” he trailed off, his throat constricting. Kester raised his brows.

“Always?”

“My mum is always there.”

“And what happens with your mum?” he prodded, watching Finn’s face darken and his eyes close briefly.

“She, uh…” Finn stopped, trying to swallow past the lump in his throat, “She’s just there, really,” he finished, shaking his head.

“She doesn’t do or say anything?”

Finn remained silent, his eyes glazing. Kester’s lips flattened.

“We’ll come back to that,” he suggested and Finn sat up straighter, “Were you close with your mother?” Finn’s expression hardened.

“S’pose. Dad wasn’t really around.”

“The loss of a parent can be quite hard, especially at your age. Her appearance in your dreams could stem from that. We all deal with death differently.” His brows rose when Finn scoffed slightly.

“I don’t miss her, if that’s what you’re getting at,” Finn snapped.

“Why’s that?”

“I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Fair enough,” Kester sighed lightly, taking a cigarette from a pack on his desk behind him, “D’ya mind?”

Finn gave a noncommittal shrug but when Kester opened his lighter, he slightly flinched and closed his eyes. He hastily closed it.

“I’m sorry, Finn, I–”

“It’s fine,” he said quickly, “Go ahead.”

He lit his cigarette and put the lighter down, watching as Finn’s eyes followed it. He licked his lips when Kester exhaled.

“Do you smoke?” he asked, Finn shaking his head and his face turning stoic.

“No. Not anymore.”

“Probably shouldn’t at your age,” he joked and Finn smirked, “Did you quit for a particular reason?”

“I guess.” Finn rolled his eyes when Kester stared, waiting for him to continue, “My mum caught me in the house. Took my smokes.”

“What’s stopping you from smoking now?”

“Probably the fact that she died twenty minutes later,” Finn stated, biting his cheek. Kester opened his mouth to reply when Finn looked at the clock and stood.

“Time’s up, Doc. Laters.”

***

Finn wasn’t an animal person by nature but it was nice to watch the ducks float across the pond at the side of the hospital. He gazed at the ripples in the water, counting the rings.

“Mind if I sit here?”

He looked up to see Rae, shading her eyes from the sun and smiling. He scooted over on the bench and waved a hand at the seat. She settled down, stretching her legs out in front of her. Finn glanced around, his brow wrinkling.

“Where’s your friend?” he asked. Rae sighed, her lips flattening.

“She’s in the hospital, on a feeding tube,” she answered, “I should’ve watched her better.”

“You can’t blame yourself for that. Got nought to do with you.” Rae turned to him and gave him a small smile before looking at the pond, watching the ducks.

“It’s nice to get out for a bit,” she said quietly, “Those walls fucking suffocate ya sometimes.” Finn nodded and tried to keep his eyes off of her and on the water.

“I heard your music playing the other day,” she started, her mouth forming a smirk, “Pretty shit.”

“You must not know shit about music then,” he responded, faintly defensive. She raised her brows at him.

“I  _know_  my music,” she said, “Y’know what’s great about reggae?” She didn’t wait for his reply, “Not a damn thing.” Finn scoffed, an incredulous smile forming.

“Well, maybe you haven’t given it a proper chance,” he retorted, Rae’s nose wrinkling, “I guess I’ll have to show you sometime.”

“You’ll show me your crap reggae? What a treat,” she drawled. Finn huffed a laugh and shook his head.

Their heads shot up when the nurse called for them to come inside and Rae shot him a frown. They stood to head back.

“Same time tomorrow?” he rushed out, his cheeks pinkening when she bit her lip for a moment before smiling at him.

“Sounds good.”

***

_Jenny Nelson stood at the stove, a hand running through her hair restlessly. Her other hand moved bacon around a pan, the grease sizzling and popping._

_“Finn, get away from the stove,” she warned, an edge to her voice. Finn stopped his approach and frowned, staring at the flames on the burner. He just wanted a closer look._

_He chanced a step forward when Jenny put the pan down and turned to the cupboard. She muttered to herself as she turned away completely to reach inside and Finn stood next to the stove, his eyes watching the blue and orange flames flutter around under the pan. His hand raised to it, the warmth tingling his skin and a hand closed around his wrist tightly. He was pulled away by his arm, jerking to face Jenny, and he looked up to her murderous glare._

_“What did I just say,” she bit out, kneeling to his level abruptly. His eyes widened and her grip barely loosened as she stared at him directly, “You_ don’t _play with fire.”_

_He nodded, a light whimper escaping his throat and Jenny released him, standing and going back to the stove._

_“Get out of here,” she berated lowly, her tone verging on threatening, “before you get hurt.”_


	2. Part II

Finn snapped awake, his hand going to his wrist and rubbing the skin. He shook his head, blinking rapidly and trying to regain his breath.

He could barely differentiate nightmares from memories lately. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take–he couldn’t sleep, he could barely eat. Why wouldn’t she leave him alone?

“Get out of my head,” he moaned lowly, both hands running over his face. He looked at the clock and sighed. Just under three hours.

He got up and shuffled across the room to the armoire, yawning into his fist. He opened the doors and his mouth twisted as he looked over his sparse wardrobe. He tried to keep his eyes off the far end where his leather jacket hung but they strayed over and he pulled it out, examining it with a grimace.

The sleeves were in bad shape, patches of them singed. The collar was almost ripped at the seams and the back was covered in deep scratch marks. It had barely made it out.

He had barely made it out.

Finn hung it back up and pulled out a long sleeve henley and jeans. He changed quickly, wincing as the clothes brushed over the burns on his arms and legs. Once he was ready, he leaned out of his door, looking both ways down the hall before leaving. He set off towards the side door leading to the pond and shot a smile at the nurse sitting at a desk near it.

“Mind if I go for a smoke, love?” He breezed past the desk, grabbing for the door and the nurse stepped out into his path.

“Y’know you’re not supposed to go out without supervision,” she asserted, raising a brow at him. He huffed a laugh and looked to the side. In his periphery, he caught her nametag and he turned back to her with a crooked grin.

“C’mon, Julie,” he said smoothly, leaning closer and meeting her eyes, “Don’t deprive a man of his only vice.” He repressed a smirk when her eyes softened and she bit her lip.

“You get five minutes, Nelson,” she proposed, “I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

“Cheers, sweetheart.” He chucked her under the chin and winked, sliding past her through the door.

Once outside, he went to the wall and looked around the corner, immediately seeing Chop and Archie standing by their bikes. He caught Archie’s eye and waved them over, checking behind him as they walked.

“How’s it, lads? I’ve got five minutes,” Finn said swiftly, holding out a hand. Chop gave him a look and handed him a rollie and lit his own. Archie crossed his arms with a frown and Finn raised a brow at him.

“What’s up, Arch?”

“How long are you gonna be here?” he directed, rolling his eyes when Finn snapped at Chop for his lighter and ignored him, “Why’d they lock you up anyway?”

Finn took the lighter to the rollie, his hand shaking as he opened it and lit the end. His eyes locked on the flame as he pulled it away and he forced his thumb to extinguish it. He held it in his fist, sucking on the cigarette deeply.

“I dunno, mate. I’m stuck ‘til they get what they want from me,” he answered, smoke streaming from his lips. Archie’s brow furrowed.

“Well, what do they want?”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t still be here, would I?” Finn quipped, Archie cuffing him around the shoulder, “Just tell me how it’s going for fuck’s sake.”

“Your house is still standing if you cared to know,” he snapped, Finn scowling at him.

“And Stacey asked after you,” Chop added, shrugging a bit. Finn smirked around his cigarette.

“Brilliant news, guys,” he sighed, exhaling roughly. Archie stepped closer to him, forcing him to meet his eyes.

“Be honest, Finn. You didn’t start it, right?” he asked, almost hesitating. Finn took a final drag and tossed the smoke before running a hand through his hair.

“Did you do what I asked?” he diverted, raising his brows. Archie nodded, his mouth twisting in annoyance.

“I dropped the flowers at her stone yesterday,” he said, “Answer me, mate.”

Finn avoided his eyes and looked behind him, catching Julie about to open the door.

“I’ve gotta go. Laters.”

He waved them off and jogged back to the building, shoving Chop’s lighter in his pocket.

***

“Let’s talk about your childhood.”

“Wow,” Finn mumbled, still settling in his chair, “You don’t waste time, do ya?”

Kester smiled mildly and shrugged.

“Where should I start?” Finn scoffed, raising his hands. Kester looked to the side, pursing his lips for a moment.

“You’ve said your father wasn’t around, and your mother…” he trailed off, Finn’s jaw clenching, “Did you have anyone else you were close to, other family or friends?” Finn licked his lips and nodded.

“I’ve got my best mates, Archie and Chop…we grew up together,” he said, keeping his eyes low, “My nan was there a lot but she stopped coming ‘round when I was younger. She got sick a few years back and snuffed it six months ago,” he finished monotonously.

“Was anything going on around the time she stopped?”

“I dunno…” he murmured, his brow wrinkling, “I remember hearing her and mum argue a lot,” he rolled his eyes, “I reckon the bitch warned her off or something.”

“What makes you say that?” Finn gave a hard laugh.

“Mother knew best,” he replied, a bitter smirk forming, “She had a hand in everything.”

“Most of your childhood was spent with her then,” Kester confirmed, steepling his fingers. Finn nodded, a bit warily.

“I’m not talking about her.”

“I’m not asking you to, Finn.”

“What  _are_  you asking me?” he demanded, leaning forward in his chair, “Why should I tell you anything? I haven’t done anything to be here.”

“You know exactly why you’re here,” he said, his voice remaining level.

“Right–I’m here because they want a confession,” he argued, going to his feet and to the window, “By any means necessary.”

“They just want to know what happened.”

“Oh, but they  _know_  what happened, Doc,” Finn sneered, starting to pace the side of the room, “They know that the Nelson’s aren’t doing so well. They know Dad’s clueless and not around. They know Mummy dearest’s a bit mental and hard hitting. They know the kid’s a firestarter.” Finn stopped and faced Kester, his eyes wide and blazing.

“They know I hated that cunt,” he hissed, his teeth gritted, “But they can’t prove I offed her…and I’m done talking.”

***

Finn shoved his hands in his pockets, biting his lip when his arm brushed Rae’s.

“Y’know what I miss about home?” Rae mused, looking up at the clouds as they walked.

“Not a damn thing?” Finn retorted, smiling when she laughed and bumped his arm with hers.

“I miss my mum’s cooking,” she said, shaking her head, “Most of it wasn’t even good but…it’s better than what they give us here.” Finn’s brow lowered, a flash of the stove burner appearing across his mind. He lightly coughed and bit his cheek.

“I’d murder for hot pot right now,” she moaned, kicking at the gravel path. Finn chuckled and she turned to him, “What about you?”

“Sorry?”

“What do you miss most from home?”

Finn’s eyes widened and his lips flattened. He wasn’t sure he missed anything from home. He wasn’t sure he even considered it to be ‘home’.

“I dunno…I can’t think of anything,” he answered, running a hand through his hair. His other fisted around the lighter in his pocket.

“There’s nothing?” she asked, frowning a little. At Finn’s silence, she continued, “What about your records? Your bed? Your favorite porno?”

He barked a laugh, Rae scrunching her nose at him with a cheeky grin.

“Yeah, all that,” he chuckled, shaking his head at her, “I guess….s’pose I miss the garage.” He half shrugged at Rae’s raised brow, “It was completely packed with rubbish from my dad’s childhood, my Granddad’s old shit…it was a good hiding spot.”

“Hiding spot?” she echoed, biting her lip. He stayed quiet, his face lifting to the clouds.

“What d’ya reckon that one looks like?” Rae followed his gaze and hummed.

“That one looks like Danny’s hat,” she said, Finn nodding thoughtfully, “Doesn’t that one look like Kester? With his ears?”

Finn laughed and tried following her eyes but couldn’t see it. She leaned into him, linking their arms before pointing to the right. He shakily inhaled and nodded, a fluttering starting in his gut. They continued their walk, starting to come up on the pond.

“There’s something I wanna show you later,” she said suddenly, Finn swallowing hard. When they reached the bench, she stopped them and faced him, stepping closer. “You can keep a secret, yeah?” she continued, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes at him. His neck snapped back in surprise and he nodded.

“Good. Meet me tonight in the common room…when the shift changes after curfew,” she voiced, starting to back away from him, “You know how to sneak out right?”

He scoffed with another nod and she gave him a Cheshire grin and raised her brows.

“Laters then, Nelson.”

She turned and walked away just as the nurse waved them back.

***

Finn entered his room and closed the door behind him, leaning against it with a heavy sigh. He stumbled to the bed and fell to it with a groan, his eyes closing instantly. If he couldn’t sleep at all before tonight, he’d go completely around the twist.

He tried to level his breathing and keep his mind blank. He turned on his side, stiffening when he felt the lighter pressing against his thigh. He bit his lip, his eyes squeezing shut tighter. He kept his hands under his pillow, a mantra spiraling through his mind.

_You don’t play with fire. You don’t play with fire. You don’t play with fire._

Behind his lids, a wall of fire appeared and his mother’s smile stretched across, the teeth sharpening.

“Fuck!” he growled, sitting up quickly. The lighter was in his hand a moment later, his thumb flicking it open. His thoughts cleared as the flame appeared, moving slowly with his labored breath. He eyed the smoke alarm on the wall nearby and gritted his teeth. The metal became hotter and he held it tighter, his hand starting to sting. His other hand hovered over the top on the flame, waving his palm closer and closer.

A knock on the door made him drop it, the flame catching on his jeans. He snuffed it out with his hand and winced, barely repressing a cry. He hid the lighter just as the door opened.

“The doctor wants to see you, check your injuries,” the nurse started. She sniffed and looked around and at him curiously, “Everything alright in here, Finn?”

He hastily nodded, rubbing at the singed spot on the leg of his jeans. The denim scratched against the developing burn and he attempted a smile as he stood from the bed.

“Lead the way, Jules.”

***  
  
 _Finn walked on his toes across the living room, biting his lip as he passed his sleeping mother on the couch, her pale face relaxed with her eyes red and puffy. He reached the back door and when he got outside, he ran to the garage, checking behind him before sliding the lock open and slipping inside._

_Today was a good day._

_After what seemed like forever, his mum was finally in that phase of her lifecycle that Finn liked to call her downward spiral. She’d spend days on end stalking the house, obsessively cleaning or cooking, ranting to herself or whoever was nearby…whatever suited her mood. He tried to stay out of her way for the most part during this period but with only the two of them in the house, he could only hide for so long._

_His dad was on a trip abroad, not that that mattered–Finn knew he wouldn’t be home even if he was here. He couldn’t remember when his nan had last shown up but he didn’t blame her for buggering off. His mother seemed to have that effect on people._

_She’d eventually run out of steam and would subsequently fall into a crying slump, barely moving and staring lethargically at the walls. Silence would take over the house and he was free to roam, given he stayed out of her line of sight. These lows were his sweet escape. His only escape._

_He crouched low and made his way through the clutter of the room, sliding between furniture and boxes. He hissed as he sucked in his gut to pass through a hidden opening in the back, the massive bruise on his ribs twinging sharply. He shakily drew a deep breath and closed his eyes when he stood fully in his hideout._

_It wasn’t much–just a corner of the garage that he’d cleared over the years, gradually smuggling things to it through the maze. He’d widened a hole in the ceiling into a makeshift skylight and kept a sleeping bag directly underneath. Last year he’d managed to carve an alcove into the wall for smoke to filter out of where he also kept a metal bucket, filled halfway with ashes and debris. Not only was it the perfect spot to hang out, it made for a good place to hide his fires; the last time she caught him lighting up, he was limping for a week._

_He dropped down to the sleeping bag and reached for a backpack to the side. He rifled through it and shortly pulled out a bag of crisps, a book of matches and his walkman. His earbuds went in and he pressed play, My Name is Jonas starting after a few seconds. He struck a match and his lips quirked at the heat between his fingers before he tossed it in the bucket, the flame catching on bits of paper inside. He laid back onto the bag, his hand going behind his head. He popped a crisp in his mouth and watched the clouds move through the skylight._

_Today was a good day._


	3. Part III (Final)

“Take off your shirt please.”

“Jesus, buy me a drink first,” Finn teased. He smirked when the doctor gave him a withering look and shook her head.

“Alright, alright,” he muttered. He tugged his shirt off and winked, “Ready when you are, love.”

“That’s Dr. Harris to you, Nelson,” she stated dryly, slapping gloves onto her hands. She took his left arm and raised a warm wet cloth to it, gently washing his burns. He sighed lightly and half-smiled, staring at the tile floor. He bit his cheek through the stinging sensation and breathed deep when she withdrew and started his other arm.

“How’s it feeling? Anything going on?” Finn’s eyes lifted to the ceiling, squinting into the light. He shrugged.

“They’re healing fine. Normal,” he said, wincing as the cloth ran over his shoulders. She raised a brow at him.

“You have previous experience with burns?”

“You could say that,” he quipped with a smirk.

“Ever the enigma, Mr. Nelson.” Finn looked up to see the police chief, Simon Evans. His brow lowered and his smirk faded.

“More questions, sir?” Finn asked irritably, Evans shrugging and coming to stand closer.

“The same question, really. I’m sure you know which one.”

“I have nothing to add,  _sir_.” Evans’ expression soured and he crossed his arms.

“You’re only hurting yourself here, Nelson. The sooner you tell us what happened, the sooner you’ll be released,” he said, raising his brows, “You’re sure you have nothing to say?”

Finn pursed his lips, wrinkling his nose.

“Naw, nothing comes to mind.”

Evans sneered slightly but nodded, waving a hand.

“Maybe your story will change by your trial date,” he taunted while opening the door to leave, “See you in a month, Nelson.”

***

Finn checked his watch alarm before he gingerly laid down on his back, adjusting his sleeves over his fresh bandages. He crossed his arms over his chest and shut his eyes, letting out a small groan.

He’d dealt with hundreds of burns over his life–none quite like this. This was agonizing.

His eyes squeezed shut tighter and he willed himself to sleep, at least for an hour. Flames danced behind his lids and he bit his lip, his eyes opening to the ceiling. He focussed on breathing, the throbbing of his burns slowly lessening with the pain meds he’d begged Harris for.

Finn wondered if he was doing the right thing by staying quiet. He wasn’t sure why he was so set on it but the thought of anyone knowing what happened that day turned his stomach. He’d always endured his mother alone, always kept everything he could to himself. He was terrified of what would happen to him if he spoke up and told the full story. How would he be seen or treated? How could he move on from that?

He didn’t know if he could handle staying here much longer. He had to do something.

***

Rae shushed him as he yawned loudly and shook his head. He sent her a glare she didn’t see as they made their way through the corridor.

“It’s just up here,” she murmured, approaching a door. She jiggled the knob and turned it to the left an inch and the lock clicked as it opened. She stepped inside and Finn followed, closing the door behind them. He looked around in the darkness, Rae standing close in front of him.

“Where are we, a linen closet?”

“We’re not there yet. This is the entrance,” she whispered, shooting him a grin. She pulled aside the back panel of the wall and revealed a short tunnel. His eyes widened and he stepped after her through the opening.

A few steps brought them to another similar opening, closed off by a heavy sheet. She lifted it and went through with Finn close behind.

“What is this?” he asked, looking around the small room, dimly lit by a large boarded up window on the far wall. Scattered on the floor were books, mixtapes and several magazines, with assorted candles around the whole room. The peeling wallpaper was covered in drawings and writing, all different colors and styles.

“Tix showed me this when I first got here. It’s this little hideout that’s been here forever…I think we’re close to the staff room, some forgotten corner of this massive shithole,” she joked, sharing a grin with him.

They sat on the floor and Rae reached for a candle and glanced around, cursing a moment later.

“We’re out of bloody matches,” she said, making a face at him. He chuckled and pulled out Chop’s lighter, flicking it open. Her eyes widened and her lips raised into a smirk.

“Hand it here, girl,” he said, raising his brows at her. She moved next to him and gave him the candle.

“You’re full of surprises, Finley.” He glanced at her as he lit the candles and placed them around.

“What do you mean?” She shrugged.

“When you first showed up, you seemed so…innocent,” she started, laughing when his mouth twisted, “You were so moody and quiet. Didn’t know if you were sound.” She tilted her head and he smiled, his cheeks reddening lightly.

“Are any of us sound?” he retorted, placing the last candle and leaning back on his elbows with his legs stretched forward. Rae hummed and laid beside him, meeting his eyes from the floor.

“Depends on what you’re in for,” she countered, sharing a smirk with him.

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” Finn said, almost subconsciously.

She flattened her lips and held his gaze. He half shrugged at her with a smile.

“You don’t have to tell me, I was just–”

“I hurt myself. A few months ago.” Finn watched Rae take a deep breath but keep her eyes steady and on his. He lowered down to lay beside her and she faced him.

“Everything became too much. I was alone all the time, my best mate was mugging me off and school was a nightmare…my thoughts took over and I just…did it.”

Finn nodded and swallowed hard, looking over her face.

“I’m getting better now though…my release date is soon,” she continued, smiling anxiously, “Kester’s really helped a lot.” Finn grimaced and Rae’s brow furrowed.

“You don’t get along with him?” He glanced to the side, his lips quirking.

“I can’t tell him what he wants to hear.”

“He wants to help–”

“I can’t be helped,” he cut her off, smiling grimly, “This is mine…this belongs to me.”

“What does?”

“My story.”

“Why are you here?” she whispered, Finn’s eyes glazing. He broke their connection and cleared his throat.

“There was a fire,” he breathed, his gaze locked on a candle flame behind Rae. He blinked a few times and met her eyes, “They think I started it.” She moved closer, their faces a head apart.

“Did you?” she asked, her eyes boring into his. He bit his lip roughly and said nothing, his eyes shining in the candlelight. They closed and when a tear slid down across his cheek to the floor, Rae embraced him tightly.

***  
  
 _Finn was running away._

_He was almost sixteen now and it was time for him to get out. He’d spent his entire life in fear, trapped in this house with no escape from his mother’s notice. Growing up, he never was able to stand up for himself but now he was older. He was stronger. He was smarter. He knew what to do._

_He opened his front door, standing in the hall and listening for any noise of movement. The silence continued and he jogged up to his room, lightly closing the door behind him. He glanced out of his window at the garage and nodded to himself as he grabbed a duffle bag from under the bed, already packed full with clothes and supplies. He almost went back out the door but stopped short and faced the room. He sighed as he looked over his childhood bedroom, seeing all the glimpses into his past. He frowned when he thought of all the times he’d come here to hide, to treat his wounds, to cry and scream to himself. He adjusted the bag on his shoulder and put a rollie in his mouth. He struck a match and lit it before taking one last look around. He stepped out the door and tossed the lit match into the middle of the room, quickly turning to the stairs. He knew the room would catch fast. He’d made sure of it. He jumped the last step and had his hand on the door when his body was snapped back, a hand fisted around his collar._

_“Where do you think you’re going?”_

***

“Let’s talk about your relationship with fire.”

“My relationship…with fire?” Finn confirmed, huffing an incredulous laugh. Kester nodded and leaned back in his chair.

“Tell me what you like about it.”

Finn scoffed and rolled his eyes but thought about it for a moment.

“I s’pose I like the colors…they’re bright and powerful,” he started, his brow wrinkling, “I like the way it moves, it’s unyielding…” he trailed off, looking to the side, “It’s hard to control but it calms me down…keeps me from losing it.”

“Do you remember your first fire?” Finn snorted and nodded, licking his lips.

“I can’t remember how old I was…maybe eight? Nine? I’d been watching fires for ages already, always nearby when my parents would light something. It looked so easy to create, for something so dangerous, y’know? It did my head in.”

Finn looked to the ceiling, stretching his legs out in front of him.

“I wanted to try it for myself,” he continued, his brow wrinkling as he remembered, “I found a lighter in a kitchen drawer, one my mum used to light candles with, and took it to my room. I had a bin by my bed that I put in the middle of the room and I sat on the floor in front of it.”

The memory was so clear to this day. He’d been so excited to see it as close as he wanted, to really study and know about it. He couldn’t wait any longer and nothing occupied his mind more.

“I flicked it open and at first, I just…looked at it,” he sighed, “I never felt anything like it…this sense of relief and calm,” he stopped, his eyes closing and his lips flattening, “Mum smelled the smoke.”

Kester leaned forward, clasping his hands. Finn’s eyes remained closed but he continued speaking.

“She barges in and she looked so angry, the worse I’d ever seen her. She rushed forward and dumped the bin, stomped out the flames,” he said softly, “And then she…” Finn stopped and Kester inclined his head.

“She hit you.”

Finn met Kester’s eyes, his wide and shining. He stayed silent but nodded before looking away.

“That was the first time.”

“And it continued?” Finn nodded again, a tear escaping. Kester leaned in and met his eyes.

“You can’t move on from what she did without talking about it. The truth will ease your mind and clear your head.” When Finn nodded once more, Kester continued, “What happened the day of the fire?”

Finn stood and went by the window, looking out for a few moments. He took a deep breath and faced Kester.

“I didn’t kill her,” Finn said, biting his lip, “But I’d planned to.”

***  
  
 _All Finn had to do now was light a few more matches, make a short trip to the garage and he could set off and get away from this nightmare. He didn’t think his mum was awake._

_He ripped her hand away from his collar and backed up a step, dropping the cigarette. He just barely noticed the cherry catching where he’d laid accelerant._

_“I’m leaving,” he said, his voice warbling. Her face broke into a sharp grin._

_“The hell you are,” she hissed. She swiped a hand at his head and he ducked, before running across the hall. She cut through the kitchen and reached the back door before him. She blocked it off and Finn froze, swallowing hard when he saw the steaming, red-hot pan in her fist._

_His head was spinning and his heart beating wildly. He frantically tried to think of what to do as she slowly approached him, a vicious scowl over her face. He couldn’t go out the front door or upstairs, as the flames were slowly building there and judging by the increasing stench of smoke, he assumed the upstairs fire was spreading according to plan. His only way out was through her._

_“You can’t stop me,” he yelled, more confidently than he felt. She swung the pan at him and he jumped back, feeling the heat just pass his stomach. He vaulted over the couch and scrambled into the kitchen. He heard her steps behind him and he moved through the room, throwing whatever he could off the counters towards her. He turned at the end of the room and faced her, striking a match._

_“I’m burning your precious house to the ground, Mum,” he goaded, stepping to the side towards the flaming hall, “You shouldn’t have played with fire.”_

_He dropped the match by the fridge and ran to the hall, snatching up his fallen bag and skimming past the wall of fire back towards the living room. He knew she’d catch him at the door again so he kept her in his eyesight as he entered, his bag like a shield in front of him. They circled the couch, his mum’s eyes dark and enraged._

_“You’re nothing but an ungrateful waste of space,” she spat, waving the pan wildly, “Just a useless firebug that needs to be stomped out.”_

_The entire first floor was lit bright orange, the heat and smoke making their way to them. Finn coughed as he moved around, the fire slowly circling in._

_She charged him, throwing the pan away as she moved. He ran ahead, dodging scattered flames, and desperately tried to reach the still untouched door. He leapt for it and his hand slipped over the knob as she tugged him back by his collar. They fell back and tumbled onto the floor. Finn caught himself by his arms and cried out when they hit fire, his sleeves catching. He felt his mum’s nails across his back, her hands fumbling for him. With strength he didn’t know he had, he surged up, his mother following and scrabbling to stop him by his jacket. He threw her off of him as hard as he could and he backed up to the door as she dropped and rolled, her clothes catching. He held his bag in a vice grip and opened the door, his mother’s screams piercing over the rush of flames._

***

“The police were already there when I got outside…the neighbors had seen smoke from my window and rang them. They questioned me but I couldn’t say what happened. I could hardly believe it happened.”

Kester ran a hand over his face but met Finn’s eyes and nodded.

“They brought you here to coax it out of you,” he said, Finn shrugging.

“S’pose so. They knew I had something to do with it. I’d gotten caught with small fires before and Evans knew my family personally. He knew how to get to me.”

Kester clasped his hands together.

“From what you’ve said, her death was an accident. You may have planned the fire and started it but her death wasn’t your doing.” Finn shook his head violently.

“But it was! She’d still be here if I hadn’t set it up,” he replied, his hands running through his hair, “This is why I can’t sleep, why she’s haunting me,” he looked up, tears falling unabated, “What kind of son tries to kill their mother? What kind of person?”

“You were acting in self-defense. You were abused and broken down for years and you were acting, fighting back,” Kester insisted, “You’re the kind of person trying to survive.”

Finn shook his head again but kept quiet, swiping at his tears. After a few moments, he looked up and met Kester’s eyes.

“So what now?”

***

“Finn! Wait up!”

Rae came barrelling down the corridor, reaching him as he shut his door and put his bag down.

“Tix is getting released, let’s go see her…” she trailed off, looking at his bag, “You’re leaving?”

He nodded, biting back a small smile. She grinned and hugged him hard, Finn sighing against her neck.

“I guess this is goodbye then,” she said as she pulled away, pouting a little as she met his eyes. He raised his brows.

“It’s goodbye for now, girl,” he said with a smirk, “Did you think we wouldn’t see each other after you got out?”

Her mouth parted in surprise and he raised his brows at her.

“I’ll give you a ring this week, yeah?” he said, leaning closer to her, “Once I get settled somewhere.” She nodded and bit her lip.

“Alright…Laters,” she said. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, smiling when her cheeks reddened.

He backed away with a wave and sighed as he turned and walked towards the front of the building. He signed out at the desk and adjusted his bag on his shoulder. He breathed in deep, a smile playing on his lips and he opened the door, stepping out into the sunlight.


End file.
